The only pink sauce I recognise - and clearly not the dross above - is Pink Pakora Dipping Sauce. It is an institution here in Glasgow (not sure about the rest of my wee country, but it is a must here). It’s ridiculously easy to make (and it doesn’t make you sick)
A Sky Like Honey
skylikehoney
Ah, yes, Marina Sirtis. She could fill him in on Saint Roddenberry’s vision for Troi to have three tits. That always struck me as particularly icksome.
“Texans are reminded not to shoot the orbital death platform currently hovering...everywhere overhead...”
You want to Death-Star San Francisco?
Now playing
The worst thing about self-checkout here in the UK is that certain supermarkets will program the tills to cheerfully trill “unexpected item in bagging area!” or “Don’t forget to swipe your Nectar card!” (Nectar card is a loyalty card. Fucking rip off, more like)
If this film doesn’t have a ten minute sequence of Margot Robbie going utterly postal on Ryan Gosling before decapitating his smug plastercine head, brandishing it and howling into the sunset? I will not be a happy bun-bun.
Subway can literally go fuck itself now. It’s not as horrific here with their food as it is with you guys in the States (but oh boy, don’t Subway UK love a race to the bottom?) but it’s getting to the point now where we should start embracing new chains. Preferably ones that don’t sell what the Irish call “cake” but…
One of the most surreal experiences I had in my very-Catholic Scottish high school was when we were all dragged into the school auditorium for a “talk” on why pregnancy is a gift from God. I would have been, oh, fourteen. Two penguins, sorry, “nuns” did a slideshow to The Circle of Life and then lectured a group of…
Why have I never seen this film?!
Now playing
There’s a certain kind of snobbery attached to instant mash. I’m going to take it from an angle you didn’t really cover above: disability.
What I want to know is who the fuck Hands Clean was about. It was based on a “relationship” that fourteen year-old Morrissette had with a music executive and, from what she said a few years ago, took her years of therapy to realise was statutory rape.
*recalls the online fan-wankery re: Jack and Ianto’s relationship...*
FFS - us UK gays have been shouting about this fucker for the better part of twenty years. This is the man who openly boasted that he went for a wee cruise around Hyde Park one night and got fucked so much that he needed a tampon the morning after, who boasted about “picking up” boys and has been the subject of…
*smirks in British*
Agreed. Let’s not forget that for a lot of people, the actual “Happy Day” is seen more as being about providing a group of people with a chance to get shit-faced and make arses of themselves rather than “coming together to celebrate one couple’s love for one another”. You don’t need a big wedding or a toilet cosy…
“Right, Paolo, I want you to make it look like choosing a sandwich from this American Imperialist Shite-shack is equivalent to approaching a bit of hot totty at the club and to assist you, we’ve roped in this comely-looking girl to dress up as a minion of the Subpar brand and we want you to make love to the…
What, no mention of the fact that Ireland classed Subway bread as being cake and not bread? I think that was a pretty huge scandal back in 2020. Subway needs to go on a diet - a serious one - and lose their shitty bread (“Artisanal Italian” - fuck off. It’s made in a fucking machine. The only artisanal thing about it…
You forget - after the end of the world, octopi, cockroaches and the Kardashians will inherit the Earth. There’s no hope for the future if the octopodi have to battle Kimmy and her demon family for resources.
Now playing
*fetches viewing goggles*
cook, freeze, ship, reheat, serve...